I’m Coming Back as a Cat
I’ve just about had it. No,
I’m not kidding. We’ve got this freakin cat that has complete run of the house,
he can do anything he wants and Linda unconditionally loves him. I mean, we
walk into the house and the fat bastard is sitting in the same spot as he was
when we left. Mice scurrying all over the house and he’s just sitting there
staring into outer space. What does Linda do when she sees him? Picks him up,
kisses him and says, “Isn’t he cute”. Now I work my butt off in and around the
house and maybe I get a quick, “Hi hon”. If I sat on my butt and stared into
space she’d have me admitted into the psych ward. Kitty does it and it’s cute.
I’m coming back as a cat.
Every so often kitty pukes on
the rug; never on our tile floor, always on the light colored rug. What does
Linda say? “Oh, he must be upset.” Yeah
upset my fanny, I’d like to see what happens if I puked on the rug. I can
imagine her holding me and asking why I was so upset. “You stupid idiot, why
didn’t you puke in the toilet?” would be her response. I’m coming back as a
cat.
The other thing is the kitty
litter. It’s out where we can see it and when the kitty goes in and does his
business Linda watches with pride, even sometimes happily cleaning up when he
misses and leaves a stronzo on the floor. Now sometimes in the morning when I’m
doing my business, I leave the bathroom door open, habit I guess. If she
happens by I hear, “that’s disgusting—close the damm door.” I can just imagine what would happen if I
left a stronzo on the floor. It would be off to the old age home for me. I’m
coming back as a cat.
As you know Linda works in Manhattan four days a week and when I call her and ask her if
she’s excited about coming out for the weekend she always says, “Oh I can’t wait
to see Kitty Boy”. I mean, what am I, chopped Liver? One time I said to Linda
that she has to get rid of the cats (We had two at that time). “It’s either me
or them”, I said. Do you know what she said? “I’ll see you Bob”. Listen I’m
serious, I’m coming back as a cat.
The fact is that up until a
month ago we had two cats, Gregory and Winston. Gregory was 21 years old when
he passed. I came down in the morning and he was sprawled out on the living
room floor dead. He used to sit on my lap every night so I guess I do miss him,
but 21 years? Only Linda would have a cat that lasts 21 years. It must be her
organic living or maybe the fact that she also spoiled him. At any rate, I’m
still coming back as a cat, maybe I’ll get some respect.
